As Ruhan stepped inside the mansion, the past rushed at him like a tidal wave.
The polished floors.
The grand chandelier.
The scent of his mother's favorite jasmine incense lingering in the air.
It all felt untouched… and yet completely unfamiliar.
But what broke him wasn't the house.
It was her.
His mother, Naziya, stood still for a moment — her breath caught in her throat as her eyes scanned his face.
Then, without a word, she walked straight into his arms.
Ruhan froze.
It had been twelve years since he felt this warmth.
Twelve years since he last touched the one person who had whispered bedtime stories into his ears, kissed his forehead, and made him believe he was safe.
He slowly wrapped his arms around her, one hand gently caressing her hair — just like she used to do for him once.
He felt her shoulders tremble.
"Mom?" he whispered, his voice deep but soft.
"Why are you crying?"
Naziya looked up at him with wet eyes and a broken smile.
"Because now… nothing's wrong anymore."
"I've seen my son again. That's all I ever needed."
She kissed his cheek, then his forehead — the way she used to when he was a little boy, afraid of the dark.
Behind them, a playful voice echoed through the quiet hallway.
"Mom! This is so unfair! You never kiss me like that. Do you even love me or not?"
Ruhi.
His younger sister — dramatic, loud, full of color.
Ruhan glanced past his mother and saw her walking toward them with a pretend pout on her lips.
Behind her stood Daksh, silent as ever, arms folded, a smirk barely hidden.
"Little drama queen," he muttered in his head with amusement.
Ruhi pushed gently past their mother and threw her arms around Ruhan.
He held her tight, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.
"How are you, little one?"
"Bhai!" she pulled away, crossing her arms.
"I'm not little anymore, okay? I'm 18!"
Ruhan chuckled.
"Fine, Miss Ruhanika Singhal… since you're all grown up now."
He turned to Daksh and said casually—
"From tomorrow, Ruhi either starts working in Dad's company… or mine. Your job is to ask her and drop her off wherever she chooses. Got it?"
Ruhi's eyes went wide.
"No! I'm still in high school! I'm just a baby!" she protested, completely panicked.
"You can't just throw me into a company! I don't even know how to use Excel!"
She looked like she might cry.
Ruhan immediately pulled her back into his arms, smiling as he rubbed her back.
"Hey, hey… relax. I was just messing with you, Ruhi. You're not going anywhere, okay?"
She nodded, sniffling against his chest.
And for a moment — just a moment — everything was still.
Ruhan closed his eyes as he held her close.
Because in that brief silence, his own childhood flashed before him.
A younger version of himself, standing at the gates of this same mansion… suitcase in hand… being sent away.
No goodbyes. No promises. Just distance.
He had once left behind this home, this warmth, this love…
And now, standing in the center of it all —
He realized how much it had cost him.
As Ruhan held his little sister, his eyes moved around the mansion — the very walls that had once echoed with his laughter now seemed... unfamiliar. Silent. Stale.
The grandeur still stood, but the warmth had long since drained.
Everything looked the same — and yet nothing felt like it used to.
He ran his hand through Ruhi's hair gently, but his mind was already somewhere else… back in the past, back in the moment when everything changed.
He remembered the night his father had stood in front of him and said coldly,
"You're leaving for New York tomorrow. This place is no longer meant for distractions."
He hadn't understood what "distractions" meant back then. He did now.
He was one of them.
A burden.
A weakness.
Something to be "sent away."
His jaw clenched at the memory.
And yet… he had returned. Stronger. Colder. Untouchable.
But here — in his mother's arms, in his sister's teasing, in Daksh's quiet glances — a small part of that old boy was still alive.
"You've grown up," he whispered to Ruhi again, this time softly, as if admitting something to himself.
She looked up at him and smiled, brushing away the tears she had pretended to cry earlier.
"And you've grown taller," she teased.
"But not nicer."
That made Ruhan chuckle faintly — the kind of laugh that only those closest to him ever saw.
Daksh stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"Sir, should I send someone to prepare your room?"
Ruhan looked past him, toward the grand staircase.
"No."
"I'll do it myself."
Naziya touched his arm. "Beta… at least let the staff—"
"No, mom." His voice was calm but firm.
"Let me walk back into it on my own."
He wasn't ready to explain why. Maybe because that room had been frozen in time — untouched since the day he left. Maybe because he needed to see if it still felt like his.
And maybe because…
he was no longer that boy.
The mansion didn't belong to the same Ruhan anymore.
Now, it belonged to the man the world feared.
But deep inside…
A small, invisible thread still pulled at the pieces of his past — the pieces he thought he'd buried.
Thankyou 💜